That Girl Montana

by Ryan, Marah Ellis

  “Now—now, Captain Leek, you can’t be expecting common grubbers of men to have all the advantages of manners that you’ve got. No, sir; you can’t. They hain’t had the bringing up. They hain’t had the schooling, and they hain’t had the soldier drills to teach them to carry themselves like gentlemen. Now, you’ve had all that, and it’s a sight of profit to you. But don’t be too hard on the folks that ain’t jest so finished like as you. There’s that new Rivers girl, now—she ain’t a bad sort, though it is queer to see your boy Dan toting such a stranger into camp, for he never did seem to take to girls much—did he?”

  “It’s not so easy to tell what he’s taken to in his time,” returned the captain, darkly. “You know he isn’t my own boy, as I told you before. He was eight years old when I married his mother, and after her death he took the bit in his own teeth, and left home. No great grief to me, for he wasn’t a tender boy to manage!” And Captain Leek heaved a sigh for the martyrdom he had lived through.

  “Oh, well, but see what a fine man he’s turned out, and I’m sure no own son could be better to you,” for Mrs. Huzzard was one of the large, comfortable bodies, who never see any but the brightest side of affairs, and a good deal of a peacemaker in the little circle where she had taken up her abode. “Indeed, now, captain, you’ll not meet many such fine fellows in a day’s tramp.”

  “If she’d even been a real Indian,” he continued, discontentedly, “it would have been easier to manage her—to—to put her in some position where she could earn her own living; for by Dan’s words (few enough, too!) I gather that she has no money back of her. She’ll be a dead weight on his hands, that’s what she’ll be, and an expensive savage he’ll find her, I’ll prophesy.”

  “Like enough. Young ones of any sort do take a heap of looking after. But she’s smart, as I said before, and I do think it’s a sight better to make room for a likely young girl than to be scared most to death with young wolves and bears tied around for pets. I was all of a shiver at night on account of them. I’ll take the girl every time. She won’t scratch an’ claw at folks, anyway.”

  “Maybe not,” added the captain, who was too contented with his discontent to let go of it at once. “But no telling what a young animal like that may develop into. She has no idea whatever of duty, Mrs. Huzzard, or of—of veneration. She contradicted me squarely this morning when I made some comment about those beastly redskins; actually set up her ignorance against my years of service under the American flag, Mrs. Huzzard. Yes, madame! she did that,” and Captain Leek arose in his wrath and tramped twice across the room, halting again near her table and staring at her as though defying her to justify that.

  When he arose, one could see by the slight unsteadiness in his gait that the cane in his hand was for practical use. His limp was not a deformity—in fact, it made him rather more interesting because of it; people would notice or remember him when nothing else in his personality would cause them to do so.

  For Captain Alphonso Leek was not a striking-looking personage. His blue eyes had a washed-out, querulous expression. His sandy whiskers had the appearance of having been blown back from his chin, and lodged just in front of his ears. An endeavor had been made to train the outlying portions of his mustache in line with the lengthy, undulating “mutton chops;” but they had, for well-grounded reasons, failed to connect, and the effect was somewhat spoiled by those straggling skirmishers, bristling with importance but waiting in vain for recruits. The top of his head had got above timber line and glistened in the sun of early summer that streamed through the clear windows of Mrs. Huzzard’s back room.

  But as that head was generally covered by a hat that sported a cord and tassel, and as his bulging breastbone was covered by a dark-blue coat and vest, on which the brass buttons shone in real military fashion—well, all those things had their weight in a community where few men wore a coat at all in warm weather.

  Mrs. Huzzard, in the depths of her being, thought it would be a fine thing to go back to Pennsylvania as “Mrs. Captain,” even if the captain wasn’t as forehanded as she’d seen men.

  Even the elegant way in which he could do nothing and yet diffuse an air of importance, was impressive to her admiring soul. The clerical whiskers and the military dress completed the conquest.

  But Mrs. Huzzard, having a bit of native wisdom still left, knew he was a man who would need managing, and that the best way was not to let his opinion rule her in all things; therefore, she only laughed cheerily at his indignation.

  “Well, captain, I can’t say but she did flare up about the Indians, when you said they were all thieves and paupers, stealing from the Government, and all that. But then, by what she says, she has knowed some decent ones in her time—friends of hers; an’ you know any one must say a good word for a friend. You’d do that yourself.”

  “Maybe; I don’t say I wouldn’t,” he agreed. “But I do say, the friends would not be redskins. No, madame! They’re no fit friends for a gentleman to cultivate; and so I have told Dan. And if this girl owns such friends, it shows plainly enough that the class she belongs to is not a high one. Dan’s mother was a lady, Mrs. Huzzard! She was my wife, madame! And it is a distress for me to see any one received into our family who does not come up to that same level. That is just the state of the case, and I maintain my position in the matter; let Dan take on all the temper he likes about it.”

  The lady of the pies did not respond to his remarks at once. She had an idea that she herself might fall under the ban of Captain Leek’s discriminating eyes, and be excluded from that upper circle of chosen humanity to which he was born and bred. He liked her pies, her flap-jacks, and even the many kinds of boiled dinners she was in the habit of preparing and garnishing with “dumplings.” So far as his stomach was concerned, she could rule supreme, for his digestion was of the best and her “filling” dishes just suited him. But Lorena Jane Huzzard had read in the papers some romances of the “gentle folk” he was fond of speaking of in an intimate way. The gentle folk in her kind of stories always had titles, military or civil, and were generally English lords and ladies; the villains, as generally, were French or Italian. But think as she might over the whole list, she could remember none in which the highbred scion of blue blood had married either a cook or a milliner. One might marry the milliner if she was very young and madly beautiful, but Lorena Jane was neither. She remembered also that beautiful though the milliner or bailiff’s daughter, or housekeeper’s niece might be, it was only the villain in high life who married her. Then the marriage always turned out at last to be a sham, and the milliner generally died of a broken heart.

  So Mrs. Huzzard sighed and, with a thoughtful face, stirred up the batter pudding.

  Captain Leek had given her food for reflection of which he was little aware, and it was quite a little while before she remembered to answer his remarks.

  “So Mr. Dan is showing temper, too, is he? Well—well—that’s a pity. He’s a good boy, captain. I wouldn’t waste my time to go against him, if I was you, and there he is now. Good-morning, Mr. Dan! Come right in! Breakfast over, but I’ll get you up a bite at any time, and welcome. It does seem right nice for you to be back in town again.”

  Overton entered at her bidding, and smiled down from his tall stature to the broad, good-natured face she turned to him.

  “Breakfast! Why, I’m thinking more about dinner, Mrs. Huzzard. I was up in the hills last night, and had a camp breakfast before you city folks were stirring. Where’s ’Tana?”

  A dubious sniff from Captain Leek embarrassed Mrs. Huzzard for a moment. She thought he meant to answer and hesitated to give him a chance. But the sniff seemed to express all he wanted to say, and she flushed a little at its evident significance.

  “Well, what’s the matter now?” demanded the younger man, impatiently, “where is she—do you know?”

  “Oh—why, yes—of course we do,” said Mrs. Huzzard hurriedly. “I didn’t mean to leave you without an answer—no, indeed. But the fact
is, the captain is set against something I did this morning, but I do hope you won’t be. Whatever they know or don’t know in sussiety, the girl was ignorant of it as could be when she asked to go, and so was I when I let her. That’s the gospel truth, and I do hope you won’t have hard feeling against me for it.”

  He came a step nearer them both, and looked keenly from one to the other—even a little threateningly into the watchful eyes of Captain Leek.

  “Let her go! What do you mean? Where—Out with it!”

  “Well, then, it was on the river she went, in one of them tiltuppy Indian boats that I’m deathly afraid of. But Mr. Lyster, he did promise faithfully he’d take good care of her. And as she’d seemed a bit low-spirited this morning, I thought it ’ud do her good, and I part told her to run along. And to think of its being improper for them to go together—alone! Well, then, I never did—that’s all!”

  “Is it?” and Overton drew a long breath as of relief and laughed shortly. “Well, you are perfectly right, Mrs. Huzzard. There is nothing wrong about it, and don’t you be worried into thinking there is. Max Lyster is a gentleman—didn’t you ever happen to know one, dad? Heavens! what a sinner you must have been in your time, if you can’t conceive two young folks going out for an innocent boat ride. If any ’sky pilot’ drifts up this way, I’ll explain your case to him—and ask for some tracts. Why, man, your conscience must be a burden to you! I understand, now, how it comes I find your hair a little scarcer each time I run back to camp.”

  He had seated himself, and leaning back, surveyed the irate captain as though utterly oblivious of that gentleman’s indignation, and then turned his attention to Mrs. Huzzard, who was between two fires in her regret that the captain should be ridiculed and her joy in Overton’s commendation of herself. The captain had dismayed her considerably by a monologue on etiquette while she was making the pies, and she had inwardly hoped that the girl and her handsome escort would return before Overton, for vague womanly fears had been awakened in her heart by the opinions of the captain. To be sure, Dan never did look at girls much, and he was as “settled down” as any old man yet. The girl was pretty, and there was a bit of mystery about her. Who could tell what her guardian intended her for? This question had been asked by Captain Leek. Dan was very close-lipped about her, and his reticence had intensified the mystery regarding his ward. Mrs. Huzzard had seen wars of extermination started for a less worthy reason than pretty Montana, and so she had done some quiet fretting over the question until ’Tana’s guardian set her free from worries by his hearty words.

  “Don’t you bother your precious head, or ’Tana’s, with ideas of what rules people live by in a society of the cities thousands of miles away,” he advised her. “It’s all right to furnish guards or chaperons where people are so depraved as to need them.”

  This with a turn of his eyes to the captain, who was gathering himself up with a great deal of dignity.

  “Good-morning, Mrs. Huzzard,” he said, looking with an unapproachable air across Dan’s tousled head. “If my stepson at times forgets what is due a gentleman in your house, do not fancy that I reflect on you in the slightest for it. I regret that he entertains such ideas, as they are totally at variance with the rules by which he was reared. Good-morning, madame.”

  Mrs. Huzzard clasped her hands and gazed with reproach at Overton, but at the same time she could not repress a sigh of relief.

  “Well, now, he is good-natured to take it like that, and speak so beautiful,” she exclaimed, admiringly; “and you surely did try any man’s patience, Mr. Dan. Shame on you!”

  But Dan only laughed and held up his finger warningly.

  “You’ll marry that man some day, if I don’t put a stop to this little mutual admiration society I find here on my return,” he said, and caught her sleeve as she tried to pass him. “Now don’t you do it, Mrs. Huzzard. You are too nice a woman and too much of a necessity to this camp for any one man to build up a claim for you. Just think what will happen if you do marry him! Why, you’ll be my stepmother! Doesn’t the prospect frighten you?”

  “Oh, stop your nonsense, Mr. Dan! I declare you do try a body’s patience. You are too big to send to bed without your supper, or I vow I’d try it and see if it would tame you any. The captain is surely righteous mad.”

  “Then let him attend to his postoffice instead of interfering with your good cooking. Jim Hill said yesterday he guessed the postoffice had moved to your hotel, and the boys all ask me when the wedding is to be.”

  She blushed with a certain satisfaction, but tossed her head provokingly.

  “Well, now, you can just tell them it won’t be this week, Mr. Dan Overton; so you can quit your plaguing. Who knows but they may be asking the same about you, if you keep fetching such pretty girls into camp? Oh, I guess you don’t like bein’ plagued any more than other folks.”

  For Overton’s smile had vanished at her words, and a tiny wrinkle crept between his brows. But when she commented on it, he recovered himself, and answered carelessly:

  “But I don’t think I will keep on bringing pretty girls into camp—that is, I scarcely think it will grow into a steady habit,” he said, and met her eyes so steadily that she dismissed all idea of any heart interest in the girl. “But I’d rather ’Tana didn’t hear any chaff of that sort. You know what I mean. The boys, or any one, is like enough to joke about it at first; but when they learn ’for keeps,’ that I’m not a marrying man, they’ll let up. As she grows older, there’ll be enough boys to bother her in camp without me. All I want is to see that she is looked after right; and that’s what I’m in here to talk about this morning.”

  “Well, now, I’m right glad to help you all I can—which ain’t much, maybe, for I never did have a sight of schooling. But I can learn her the milliner trade—though it ain’t much use at the Ferry yet; but it’s always a living, anyway, for a woman in a town. And as to cookin’ and bakin’—”

  “Oh, yes; they are all right; she will learn such things easily, I think! But I wanted to ask about that cousin of yours—the lady who, you said, wanted to come out from Ohio to teach Indians and visit you. Is she coming?”

  “Well, she writes like it. She is a fine scholar, Lavina is; but I kind o’ let up on asking her to come after I struck this camp, for she always held her head high, I hear, and wouldn’t be noways proud of me as a relation, if she found me doing so much downright kitchen work. I hain’t seen her since she was grow’d up, you know, and I don’t know how she’d feel about it.”

  “If she’s any good, she’ll think all the more of you for having pluck to tackle any honest work that comes,” said Overton, decidedly. “We all do—every man in the settlement. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be asking you to look after this little girl, who hasn’t any folks—father or mother—to look after her right. I thought if that lady teacher would just settle down here, I would make it worth her while to teach ’Tana.”

  “Well, now, that would be wise,” exclaimed Mrs. Huzzard, delightedly. “An’ I’ll write her a letter this very night. Or, no—not to-night,” she added, “for I’ll be too busy. To-night the dance is to be.”

  “What dance?”

  “Well, now, I clean forgot to tell you about that. But it was Mr. Lyster planned it out after you left yesterday. As he’s to go back East in a few days, he is to give a supper and a dance to the boys, and I just thought if they were going to have it, they might as well have it right and so it’s to be here.”

  Overton twisted his hat around in silence for a few moments.

  “What does ’Tana think of it?” he asked, at last.

  “She? Why, land’s sakes! She’s tickled a heap over it. Indeed, to go back to the commencement, I guess it was to please her he got it up. At least, that’s the way it looked to me, for she no sooner said she’d like to see a dance with this crowd at the Ferry than he said there should be one, and I should get up a supper. I tell you that young chap sets store by that little girl of yours, though she does sass
him a heap. They’re a fine-looking young couple, Mr. Dan.”

  Mr. Dan evidently agreed, for he nodded his head absently, but did not speak. He did not look especially pleased over the announcement of the dance.

  “Well, I suppose she’s got to learn soon or late whom to meet and whom to let alone here,” he said at last, in a troubled way, “and she might as well learn now as later. Yet I wish Max had not been in such a hurry. And he promised to take good care of her on the river, did he?” he added, after another pause. “Well, he’s a good fellow; but I reckon she can guide him in most things up here.”

  “No, indeed,” answered Mrs. Huzzard, with promptness, “I heard her say myself that she had never been along this part of the Kootenai River before.”

  “Maybe not,” he agreed. “I’m not speaking of this immediate locality. I mean that she has good general ideas about finding ways, and trails, and means. She’s got ideas of outdoor life that girls don’t often have, I reckon. And if she can only look after herself as well in a camp as she can on a trail, I’ll be satisfied.”

  Mrs. Huzzard looked at him as he stared moodily out of the window.

  “I see how it is,” she said, nodding her head in a kindly way. “Since she’s here, you’re afraid some of the folks is most too rough to teach her much good. Well, well, don’t you worry. We’ll do the best we can, and that dead partner o’ yours—her father, you know—will know you do your best; and no man can do more. I had a notion about her associates when I let her go out on the river this morning. ‘Just go along,’ thought I, ‘if you get into the way of making company out of real gentlemen, you’ll not be so like to be satisfied with them as ain’t—”

  “Good enough,” Dan assented, cheerily. “You have been doing a little thinking on your own account, Mrs. Huzzard? That’s all right, then. I’ll know that you are a conscientious care-taker, no matter how far out on a trail I am. There’s another thing I wanted to say; it’s this: Just you let her think that the help she gives you around the house more than pays for her keeping, will you?”